The Play's The Thing
by Mrs. Handsome
Summary: When the new Muggle Studies teacher suggests a Hogwarts play as an introduction to Muggle pastimes, will our beloved eighth years accept the idea? And what exactly does Harry have up his sleeve? A lighthearted rendition of Shakespeare's Hamlet, with a heaping teaspoon of Dramione, and a pinch of sarcasm. "Our hands touched as we reached for the flobberworm mucus..."
1. To Be Or Not To Be

**_"To be...or not to be...that is the question..." – Hamlet_**

* * *

"Harry, _honestly_!" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. "I can't believe you think that...that..."

"Malfoy is in love with you?" Harry supplied, grinning. Ron guffawed, and choked on his pumpkin pasty.

"You're absolutely mental. Just because he's apparently switched sides to blatantly avoid the dementors in Azkaban, does not mean-"

"Switched sides?!" Ron swallowed. "All our years of Hogwarts, really 'Mione? _Malfoy can't possibly be the heir of Slytherin! Malfoy needs to go to Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid, he's hurt! Malfoy is much too young to be a Death-Eater!_"

His imitation of the Gryffindor know-it-all became too much for Harry, who buried his head in his hands with silent laughter.

Hermione, however, turned slightly pink, and grimaced at the sight. "You two are unbelievable."

"Just face the facts! That git's been staring at you ever since we got on the bloody train!" said Ron.

Harry finally emerged from the table, his hair even messier than usual. "I didn't even think he'd show up for eighth year."

"Who would show up for eighth year?" said a voice behind them. Ron, who sat opposite Hermione, turned around stupidly towards Luna and Neville, who were in deep conversation beside him.

Hermione and Harry turned the other way. "No one!" Hermione shouted instantly, as Harry replied coyly, "Malfoy."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, and sat in the seat next to Harry. "Well, sorry I'm late...Arnold's been having some issues."

Ron groaned audibly. "You take that thing everywhere...How long is it even supposed to live?"

"_He_. And at least I could keep my pet for three years without it turning into the grimiest man alive." She retorted. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry beat him to it, flinging an arm around Ginny's shoulders.

"We face a real problem here, Gin." He started. "Malfoy's in love with Hermione."

"Really? How do you know?" she seemed surprisingly unfazed.

"I swear I saw that idiot practically jump out of his bloody chair when Slughorn suggested partners for the potions assignment!" Ron answered enthusiastically.

Hermione stabbed a piece of toast with her fork. "That's ridiculous! He probably just-"

"Oh...no wonder he kept scowling at me when me and 'Mione were brewing the sleeping draught..." Harry added, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"That's kind of sweet." Said Ginny.

Hermione's jaw dropped in disbelief. "How in Merlin's name could that possibly indicate _anything_?"

Harry shrugged. "Well it was more of a daydream scowl, than the usual _I hate you, Potter _scowl."

"No, listen!" Ron continued. "He was probably thinking about how you two would be partners and fall in love over the potion."

Ginny giggled. "_Our hands touched as we reached for the flobberworm mucus_..."

* * *

"This year, in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we would like to present our newest Muggle Studies professor..."

Many groans came from the Slytherin table across the hall, except for one Draco Malfoy, who seemed to glance shiftily over to the front table.

"Gertrude Lerwick..." Professor McGonagall smiled, encouraging a slightly rotund, middle-aged witch with a large blonde bun to stand.

"What the bloody hell kind of name is _Gertrude_?" whispered Ron. Harry sniggered, and Hermione shushed them both.

Professor Lerwick, now in the center of the hall, nodded politely at the headmistress, and beamed warmly at the students. "I hope you all enjoy my first year teaching here, at Hogwarts. My apologies; I've been quite ill for the past couple of days, so I haven't been able to greet anyone at the Sorting..."

"I hope she doesn't turn out to be another Umbridge..." said Harry, nudging Ginny. This time Hermione turned around stonily, apparently still resentful from their past discussion.

"Now!" She smoothed her hair with one pudgy hand. "As the Muggle Studies Professor, I have decided to implement more Muggle pastimes into this school year. _So_...I have decided to host Hogwart's very first _play_."

A small murmur of both agreement and confusion spread around the room.

"_No magic involved, whatsoever_."

Soon, many shouts of objection and "Rubbish!" joined the students' voices.

"This way, it'd be authentic! As a muggle-born myself, I grew up watching television and films, but I personally think that a play would be a bit more straightforward. As for the ideas, I also thought our..."eighth years" would enjoy coming up with ideas for it as well...I would most definitely suggest reading some plays from around the Muggle world; I've provided some for the library to borrow in between classes."

Professor Lerwick was only met with blank looks, and a few jeers from the Slytherin table, as usual. At the Gryffindor table, it seemed that only Hermione actually found her idea to be a good one. Harry and Ron, however, looked blankly at each other, Ron still trying to figure out the words "television" and "films".

"Well..." There still remained a bit of awkwardness at her response.

"You may all begin your meal!" McGonagall interjected, ushering Lerwick back to her seat with her usual thin-lipped smile.

After dinner, Hermione, Harry, and Ron lounged in the Gryffindor common room, Ron fast asleep in one of the chairs.

"So what do you think about the play, Harry?" Hermione asked, an obvious tone of excitement in her voice.

"Er...what?"

"The play, Harry. The one our new professor started..."

Harry sighed, and ran a hand through his raven hair. "She's not _our_ professor; we don't even take Muggle Studies, remember?...And as for the play...I think it's a _brilliant_ idea." His last words dripped with sarcasm, yet Hermione failed to notice.

"We should go to the library now then!"

Ron stirred suddenly. "I don't wanna..."

'Me either...' Harry thought to himself. Instead, he asked innocently, "Now?"

Hermione straightened in her chair for a moment, and then stood. "Yes, of course! It's only half past eight, and I'm sure we'll be the first to see the selection of Muggle books."

"What about Ron?" He was fishing for excuses now.

"What about Ron? I'm sure he'll be fine lazing off in that chair, dreaming about chocolate frogs and jelly slugs. Let's go before it's too late!"

And with that, Hermione disappeared through the portrait hole. With another dramatic sigh, Harry followed after her.

* * *

**Author's Note-** I hope you guys enjoyed this! I'm planning on taking some elements from Hamlet for this fanfiction. This probably won't be a heavily romantic Dramione, just because Hermione does not reciprocate feelings for Draco (yet), so don't expect a huge make-out scene or anything, lol! Please do review if you liked it, or have any constructive criticism, I would really appreciate it! Thanks for reading. :)


	2. A Method To The Madness

**_"Though this be madness, yet there is method in't." _****–****_ Hamlet_**

* * *

"Alright, Harry." Hermione practically bounced on her toes in anticipation, as she pulled out a chair at the library table. "What would you prefer to read first? I'm sure you've already read some Charles Dickens, and Shakespeare...perhaps some William Golding..."

Harry gave her a blank look, and sat resignedly at the table. "I..."

Hermione watched him expectantly.

"No...I...I haven't? Come on, Hermione, it's _me_." He adjusted his glasses on his nose.

She sighed. "Oh, alright. I suppose I wouldn't mind re-reading Macbeth...or a Midsummer Night's Dream...or maybe even Hamlet...hmm..."

"Oh, right, Shakespeare...I know he wrote...er...Romeo and Juliet, right? I believe I saw a copy of that somewhere on Aunt Petunia's shelf..." Harry looked rather pleased with himself for remembering this bit of information.

"That's a bit cliché though, isn't it? Besides, there isn't just Shakespeare here..." She traced her index finger along the spines of the books. Professor Lerwick had quite a large collection of Muggle classics, but there only seemed to be a few that Hermione hadn't read. "Oh! What about some Thomas Hardy; I've only heard of his works..."

"Who?"

"Thomas Hardy, Harry; come look!" She pulled a book titled, _The Mayor of Casterbridge_, from the shelf, flipping through it pointedly until he finally rose to join her. "_In a fit of drunken anger, Michael Henchard sells his wife and baby daughter for five guineas at a country fair. Over the course of the following years, he manages to establish himself as a respected and prosperous pillar of the community of Casterbridge_..."

"That sounds horrific!" Harry exclaimed, mostly paying attention how many pages the book contained.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's classic _literature_, I'm sure it-"

"What, little Potter can only stand but so much?" Another, smoother voice came from the other side of the stacks.

Harry, who had no intention of acknowledging Draco's presence, nudged Hermione anyway.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" said Hermione, an obvious hint of annoyance in her tone.

He emerged from the other side of the shelf, easily plucking the novel from Hermione's hands and silently reading the back. His pale eyebrows rose to his forehead. "Ah..." he said, finally. "Too many big words for him to understand, I'm sure..."

"Shut up, Malf-!" Harry started angrily.

"Shhhhhh!"

All three students turned around instantly, only to see the shriveled face of an irritated Madam Pince, who, as usual, enforced quiet in the library.

"You have twenty minutes." She sniffed in disapproval through her hooked nose. "And keep it quiet!"

"Well." Said Draco, after the librarian shuffled away. "Potter. _Hermione_. I suppose I'll be going then." He threw_ The Mayor of Casterbridge_ up into the air, and then caught it with one slender hand.

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. Draco winked.

"Would you stop flirting, and leave, Malfoy?" Harry snapped. "Hermione's obviously not interested."

A flicker of something neither of them could put their fingers on, passed over Draco's grey eyes. "Like I would flirt with a muggle-born like her." He regained his dignity with a smirk. "Have fun teaching him how to read, Granger."

Harry clenched his fists, and Hermione reached for the wand in her pocket, before she spotted the book in his hand. "I was going to borrow that, Malfoy!"

His smirk grew wider. "I guess that's just _too bad_." And he sauntered away to Madam Pince's desk, signing his name for the book.

"You know what, Harry?" said Hermione through clenched teeth. "We can just choose another story. Let's _not_ give Malfoy the satisfaction."

Harry grinned. "Sure. How about one of those...er...wait, what about that one named _Hamlet_? What's that about?"

Running her fingers along the spines again, Hermione plucked the book in question. "I won't give any spoilers if that's what you're suggesting." She threw him a smile. "You don't mind me reading it with you, do you? I think I'd actually like to read _Hamlet_ again."

He nodded indifferently. "Okay...how long is it again?"

"Four hours." She replied loftily.

"No...I meant...nevermind..."

"Let's register this book, shall we?"

"Where have you two been?" Ron demanded as Hermione and Harry entered the common room. He was still sitting in the same maroon armchair near the fireplace, and had apparently awoken from his nap.

Harry sunk down in a chair opposite him. "The library, Ron. The library."

He laughed, brushed his gingery hair out of his eyes. "What'd you get, mate? Those mental Muggle stories?"

"Ron!" Hermione waved the book in front of his face. "Would you mind acting civilized for once?"

Ron gulped. "We're going to have to read _that_? What the bloody hell is a hamlet anyways?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed the library book to Harry. "I'm going to the dormitories now, to talk to Ginny and Luna." She pronounced, walking up the steps to the girl's quarters.

"Women..." said Harry.

He looked at Ron, who was staring incredulously at _Hamlet_, and burst out laughing.

Ron lifted it up by its cover as if it were a blast-ended skrewt. "So what d'you reckon this is about?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno...still better than that one story about this bloke who sold his family at a county fair."

"I know Hermione's muggle-born and all...and that dad always fools around with their stuff, but...Muggles are crazy, mate!"

"Either way, we still have to read this Shakespeare thing." He replied optimistically.

Ron flipped to a random page.

"_May be the devil, and the devil hath power_

_T' assume a pleasing shape. Yea, and perhaps_

_Out of my weakness and my melancholy,_

_As he is very potent with such spirits,_

_Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds_

_More relative than this. The play's the thing_

_Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king._"

There was silence for a moment after that, neither of the boys understanding the passage, and both now dreading the rest of what the play could entail.

"Well..." said Ron, getting up from his seat. "That must be the cue for us to head off to bed."

Harry rose as well. "Yeah, I'm sure Hermione can translate this all for us..."

* * *

**Author's Note-** So how was this? It's a lot of fun implementing the Muggle classics into this story, haha. And here, we got our first glimpse of Draco (my true love)! If you want, leave a review to tell me what you think about this chapter, I'd _really _appreciate the feedback. Also, I saw this really strange/interesting cartoon thingy on SparkNotes, when I found the quote from Hamlet that doesn't belong to me. It's basically...icecream flavors inspired by different Shakespeare plays. I can't leave the link to it on here, sorry to say, but it was really funny! My favorite was a Mintsummer Night's Dream. ;)


	3. To Catch the Conscience of A Malfoy

**_"The play's the thing; wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king." _****–****_ Hamlet_**

* * *

"Ron, it can't be but so difficult to understand!" Hermione reproached. At the request of Harry, she had only begun to 'translate' that same passage he and Ron had attempted to read earlier.

However, neither of them could fully understand that bit of the play, particularly Ron, who retaliated with, "That's easy for you to say! You grew up with Muggle books, like that Bloody Cindirelly!" He seemed already on the verge of running out of the library, just at that comment.

"Cinderella." Harry corrected absentmindedly. Ron shot him a look of betrayal. "Harry?!"

He sighed heavily. "I guess Hermione's right then. Could you just explain one more time? Please? Or else we'll pick out another book."

Hermione tucked a stray strand of her bushy hair behind one ear, and crossed her arms in annoyance. "I _told_ you, you can't just skip into the middle of a story, and just go from there!"

"Come on, Hermione, please?" Harry pleaded. "Just this one time."

She uncrossed her arms and grimaced, as though it were a crime to skip into the middle of a book. "Fine" she said. "But, _honestly_, you two need to catch up on your reading!"

"Reading Muggle stories?" Ron asked in disbelief. Harry nudged him as a warning, and Hermione remained silent. "...sounds...like a great idea!" he finished quickly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's brilliant!"

Hermione shook her head, although her lips were slightly turned up at the corners. "Alright. So..." she started. "Basically, the main character of the play, Hamlet, came up with a genius idea to-"

"Ohhhhhhhhh...so Hamlet is a _name_?" Ron's eyes seemed to grow wide with wonder.

"Yes, yes!" she continued briskly. "So, anyways, Hamlet came with the idea to begin a play, because-"

"Just like us!" Harry mused. "Oh...sorry." He threw her a cheeky grin.

She began to explain faster, as though she expected one of them to interrupt her at any second. "He begins the play to reveal the secrets of King Claudius, his uncle, who he suspects killed his father and married his mother, only to gain power and become king."

Ron sniffed loudly. "But that's mental!"

Harry nodded. "But...what does the play have to do with anything?"

Hermione looked round at both of them, and said nothing.

"Well?" said Ron.

"The play depicts all of the sinful things Hamlet believes King Claudius did! Therefore, he hopes that when his uncle watches the play, he'll feel guilty."

"That _is_ genius!" Harry looked upwards towards the ceiling, lost in thought.

"Did it work, though?"

Hermione paused. "Well...sort of. He ran out during the middle of the play, when the poison was poured in Hamlet's father's ear."

"In the _ear_?"

"Yes, Ron. They weren't wizards, he didn't just cast the Killing Curse. And even if he did, Hamlet would be able to see the last spell he used."

"You can do that?"

"Yeah." Said Harry, who was broken out of his reverie. "Prior Incantato. Ollivander used that one when he was checking our wands for the Triwizard Tournament." He explained, noting Ron's blank expression.

"Oh. Well, if they _were_ wizards, then ol' Hammy should have just done that!" Ron joked.

Hermione laughed. "Well, they aren't, so they didn't. Anyways, what did you think of it?"

"Oh, it was alright..."

"I have an idea for the play." Harry pronounced.

"What?" said Hermione. "I'm pretty sure we have to write the actual play ourselves..."

"That's what I mean!" he shouted. "But, if we have a play that reflects the true demeanor of...IdunnomaybeDracoMalfoy...thenmaybethesamethin gcouldhappenagain!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Ron blinked. "What the bloody hell was _that_, mate?"

He sighed. "Listen, you two. I want to know what Malfoy is up to, alright? And that Hamlet bloke was absolutely brilliant, see?"

"Harry, you've gone nutters!" said Ron.

"Oh, would you _please_ stop it with the Draco thing?" Hermione countered. "It's really beginning to get on my nerves."

"Beginning?" Ron snickered. Harry jabbed him with his elbow. "It's harmless, Hermione, c'mon. All we have to do, is-"

"_We_?!" she shrieked, jolting up from her seat on the couch, and stomping her foot. "There will most definitely _not_ be any kind of we involved in this little ridiculous project of yours! Draco Malfoy is _not_ in love with me, and that's final! We're not even remotely friends."

"It's just an idea!" Harry protested. "And you wouldn't have a say about it, anyways."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, neither would you! You don't even take Muggle Studies."

"Hang on..." Harry started in mock surprise. "I don't?" He put a finger to his lips, and tapped his foot in a thinking motion. "Hmmm...well, maybe Professor Lerwick will let 8th years come up with ideas, Hermione!"

"You will _not_ submit that idea, Harry." Hermione commanded.

"Watch me." He responded calmly, picking a small piece of parchment from his pocket. "Ron, d'you have a quill on hand?"

Ron watched him in awe, and handed him a quill. "Bloody hell..."

"Harry!" Hermione's voice was more urgent now, pleading.

He wrote down the idea, in slow, sure letters, and then pocketed the parchment once more. "Relax, Hermione, it's just an idea. It might not even get picked."

She bit her lip, as though the bit of information she was about to tell him might be futile to her efforts. "Well, Harry, you know who you are. _They_ know who you are. It's been only a year since the war, and you're already starting up trouble!"

"Trouble?" he chuckled darkly. "I'm submitting an idea for the play, and after all that stuff we did in our earlier years here, you call _this _the trouble bit?"

"No! I'm saying that they know exactly who you are, and therefore, out of their gratitude, and possible fangirling habits, they might actually blindly pick your idea without further investigation into its true meaning!"

Ron burst out laughing. "Fangirling habits?!"

Harry grinned. "Tell that to Ginny..."

"I don't know how I've been able to _stand_ the pair of you after all these years." Hermione said dramatically.

"Finally re-thinking your friendship with those two dunderheads, are you Granger?"

Ron and Harry exchanged looks, only to fall out in immense sniggering.

"Yes, Malfoy, as a matter of fact I am."

Ron dropped his quill.

"But in case you haven't forgotten..." she continued. "It was the three of us that saved _your_ arse back in the Room of Requirement last year! So I suggest you _bounce_ back to your dormitory, _ferret_, and leave us alone."

Harry's eyes flicked between the both of them, as if he were at the Quidditch World Cup again.

"It's funny how stale your responses are, Granger. I know I can't pull the "mudblood" card again, but I must say, your friends here seem to lack both the intelligence and maturity of yourself, and probably resemble their Potty and Weasel Bee namesakes moreso than I thought."

Hermione breathed deeply, and Ron could swear she was counting silently to herself.

"Hermione." Said Draco, one silvery white eyebrow raising aristocratically up to his forehead, and a smirk growing steadily upon his lips.

She met his eyes for a moment, as though she were going to say something, and then turned sharply on her heel, marching out of the library, and eliciting curious glances from students at other tables.

Harry and Ron stood awkwardly, wondering whether to follow behind or not.

Draco sneered, and walked away in the other direction, a noticeable loss of arrogance in his step.

* * *

**Author's Note-** Hey, guys. So, I almost forgot to make an author's note! *cue yells of "Rubbish!" and boos and jeers* But, it's all good, because I remembered at the last minute! Er...yeah! Sorry, I actually meant to update this yesterday, but as my friend likes to call it, I had a "freak accident" with my USB last night, and I lost a lot of my poetry, school work, and writing overall. Huge bummer, right? I have some of those things saved other places, obviously, but I think I might have permanently lost some other things. :( But, of course I can't keep my itching fingers away from the keys on my keyboard, because I just _have_ to write something every day. It's a bit strange, but I'll go with that. So, as usual my rambling ends here. (I'm going to eat a late breakfast, haha.) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please give me your feedback, because I'll really appreciate it. Bye!_  
_


	4. Wise Foolery

**_"The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool." – As You Like It_**

* * *

It had been two weeks and a couple of days since Harry first submitted his idea. Now, all members of every house were gathered around the Sorting Hat in the Great Hall. Professor Lerwick had first suggested that the Goblet of Fire could be put to use for the play submissions, but due to Professor McGonagall's objections, and the overpowering magic that bound a student to the goblet; the Sorting Hat had been decided upon.

Truthfully, many of the younger students found great pleasure in hearing the hat's sarcastic commentary every time an eighth year submitted an idea.

However, the Muggle Studies teacher discovered that using the hat embraced both Muggle and Wizarding ways of decision. At the moment, Ron, Hermione, and Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, as usual; Hermione shooting daggers into the back of Harry's head.

Harry, himself, could only smile shrewdly and remember the day that resulted in continuous arguments and mediocre spells of shunning.

About two days after Harry suggested his Hamlet idea to Ron and Hermione, the Sorting Hat opened for business, and as a result...so was Hermione's new idea...

* * *

"Hermione, you've got to be bloody kidding me!" said Ron, as he stuffed yet another chocolate frog in his mouth.

"Just watch me!" she responded enthusiastically. "If Harry wants to play dirty, then so can I. _I'm_ going to enter my _own_ idea."

Ron's eyebrows rose skeptically towards his freckled forehead. "On what?! We've only read Hamlet, and Harry's already used that for his idea. Besides, we have two more weeks before they're chosen anyways!"

"Keyword: _we_." She said loftily. "Of course I've read other classics in the school library on my own free time. What exactly do you take me for?"

He grinned. "The same bookworm we've taken you for, for seven years!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron..."

"Hey, it's your idea, not mine." He stated proudly. "But, I'm just warning you, your idea is probably at the bottom of the pile. Remember what you said the other day?"

She tapped her foot. "What did I say?"

"That it won't matter what anyone else thinks they can enter, because Harry's 'fangirls' will be all over his idea anyways." His face was triumphant.

"Well, that's nothing compared to my idea. Unlike Harry's, my play would contain much more substance and exude intelligence, yet have the bits of romance and humour that every play-goer looks for, right?"

"What did you just say?"

Hermione crossed her arms with impatience. "I _mean_, that Hogwarts must have some intelligent students that will appreciate my play opposed to Harry's rubbish."

Ron gulped. "So what's your idea?"

"A rendition of _Jane Eyre_. Except, in the wizarding world, and with a male main character." She replied, practically bouncing back and forth on her heels.

He noticed her waiting expectantly for a reaction. "Well...I have no idea what this Jane Air is about, but she sounds interesting?"

Hermione sighed. "I should really bring you with me whenever I go to the library, but of course..."

She was cut off by his loud spurts of laughter. "Hermione, you can't be serious! I'm not going with you to read some stories about mental Muggles."

"I'm not talking about _you_." She snapped. "I meant Malfoy."

Ron stopped laughing, and watched her intently. "What is he doing to you? Do you need me to-"

"No, Ron! No! I can handle him myself, alright! Could we please just get back to my idea?"

"Fine, fine. But I'll be after his arse if he tries anything...Also, how long d'you think this whole Air thing'll take? I'm supposed to be playing Quidditch with Harry, Dean, and Neville in half an hour."

"She's an orphan who lives with an abusive family of sorts, and then she gets sent to a boarding school, where she-"

Ron got up quickly. "This sounds just like Harry!"

She smiled crookedly. "Only the first, beginning chapters."

"Hermione, I don't think this is such a good idea."

"What does it matter to you?" she said briskly, the smile fading. "You said that Harry's fangirls will take over the vote anyways. And speaking of Harry, why don't you go play Quidditch?"

"I told you, I still have half an hour."

"Be early then!"

Their eyes met in that moment of awkward tension, and eventually Hermione stalked off, leaving Ron to mull over his thoughts.

* * *

Professor McGonagall, still adjusting to her new Headmistress status, paced back and forth behind the pedestal in which Dumbledore used to present his long spiels, followed by the evening feast, as well as a few chuckles in the crowds from students. There was a veil of doubt masking her face by then, doubt in that fact that Professor Lerwick would have the capability to choose a proper play idea for Hogwarts students. She still greatly disagreed with her decision to allow non-Muggle Studies eighth year students to participate in the play at all. But, Gertrude Lerwick was one of the only Muggle Studies teachers that they could find in the past ten years. The other, had been murdered long before the Battle.

Therefore, McGonagall tried her best to accommodate the new, cheery, professor's quirks and contributions, despite the changes they would make to the school. She instinctively turned around at her mind's mention of Lerwick, who immediately followed up with a bright smile and short wave. Instead of replying, she busied herself with the Sorting Hat, balancing it on its tip just so with the flick of her wand.

And suddenly, the Muggle Studies teacher was approaching the pedestal, herself, her eyes roaming the hall of students. "We shall now choose the play idea from the mighty hat of our own upbringing. Thank you all, _eighth years_ for joining in on the fun!"

'Oh, Merlin...' Professor McGonagall inched backwards, Lerwick's excessively bright attitude striking her to the core. 'This does not sense well...'

Before one of the professor's pudgy hands could grab the parchment out of the hat's wide opening, the headmistress extended one thin hand towards it, plucking it from the Sorting Hat as quickly as she could.

Shouts of "Who won?!" and "Rubbish!" erupted from the tables.

Yet, as soon as she could unfold the parchment, her lips turned slightly into a smile. One that did not reach her eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note-** Hello! So, just when I was getting ready to go to sleep, I accidentally opened my fanfiction file on my computer...so you know what that means...I had to finish this chapter! Ah, so now you've cracked the code. I honestly don't even know what I'm talking about at the moment, so I'm going to make this quick. But then again, I don't have anything left to say except, thank you for reading, and please do leave your feedback, because I would very much appreciate it! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I will talk to you soon. Bye! :)


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